


I'm a Soldier, Till it's Over

by whosays_penultimate



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, POV Javier, Post-Pyeongchang alternate reality, Rivalry, Sexual Content, complicated feelings, no beta we die by Pooh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosays_penultimate/pseuds/whosays_penultimate
Summary: Pyeongchang with a twist: what if Javi was the one who got gold and Yuzu retired afterwards.





	I'm a Soldier, Till it's Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofreverentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofreverentia/gifts).



> Happy (early) birthday, ofreverentia! I hope you like your gift! <3  
> It's a mess but I hope it's somewhat readable :)
> 
> Title is from the song 'Art of War' by We The Kings, a song that somehow makes me think of Yuzuvier :))

 

 

After the short program they were one and two, placed first and second like so many times before: Yuzuru soaring and Javier struggling to keep up, biting the bullet in his mad effort to reach Yuzuru, overtake him, overcome him. Javier’s struggle was so physical that the feeling of victory whenever he did manage to succeed was inevitably physical as well – arousing and sensual in quality.  
And now, on the biggest stage of all, the Olympic venue, Javier felt that he was so close, his entire being tingling with the anticipation of what could be.  
People more often than not underestimated Javier Fernandez – they underestimated his pure desire to win. He encouraged that gladly, by allowing his innate kindness and gentleness to shine through, instead of giving way to feelings of frustration. But the mad joy of victory, the dire pain of loss, the tormented desire for redemption, were burning inside Javier just as much as in Yuzuru. It was an obligatory requirement for sharing the ice with someone like Yuzuru Hanyu – otherwise Javier would’ve shriveled and burned out a long time ago.  
But instead, the two of them delighted in matching against each other, daring themselves to go further and further for the sweet satisfaction of being the one looking down from the top of the podium at the other.  
But they were also getting older.  
And Yuzuru was injured now.  
But that, in itself, Javier knew – meant nothing. If anything, Yuzuru would be even more focused, more determined, more single-mindedly fantastic. An injured Yuzuru was like an unpredictable wild creature, one never knew what to expect, but Javier knew better than to underestimate him. Let people underestimate him who didn’t know him. Javier knew better.

There was something in the air, and Javier felt it even before he took the ice.  
Yuzuru had been breathtaking. The ice was his domain and he owned it, even as his traitorous ankle betrayed him at a key moment. A gasp of anguish rose from the crowd, but Yuzuru smiled and went on to complete a deeply emotional and spellbinding performance, only marred by a couple of mistakes.  
Javier’s heart broke for him, especially knowing what Yuzuru had gone through, but he also smelled blood, the fierceness that lived in him awakened, at the slightest sign of weakness from his eternal rival.  
Could Javier one-up Yuzuru on this grand stage? He’d need the skate of his life to do so.  
Javier prayed to the skating gods.  
_For all those times you’ve given Yuzuru wings to fly, give them to me now. I need them._  
_Please, for the one time, let me find that magical zone where technical perfection meets artistic magnificence._  
_Let me bring the gold medal to my country. Let me show them that figure skating is worth it. That I’m worth it._  
_Please, for the last time, let me find joy._  
Then he took a deep breath and took his starting position.

Every skater has at least three versions of a free program, that they agree with their coach beforehand. The first, the one most skaters resort to 90% of the time and the one also written in the planned program layout, is for normal conditions. The second, a watered-down version, is for when the skater doesn’t feel well or the conditions are poor. And the third.... Javier had never gone for the third. But it was made for moments like these – moments when you’d risk everything on a gut feeling that you can do the impossible. A layout so bold that the chances of going clean are slim, but the rewards for achieving that would mean shattering your personal best. For Javier that included a jump he had never landed in competition, Yuzuru’s trademark jump, the 4Lo.  
Yuzuru hadn’t attempted it here.  
For a brief moment, Javier wondered about Yuzuru’s third version. Did it include the 4Lo? Did it maybe also include the dreaded 4Lz that caused his injury, a jump that Javier had never attempted and never had the slightest intention to attempt? He shuddered briefly. It didn’t matter anymore. Yuzuru had skated before him, and Javier’s time was now. It was now or never. It was time to risk it all.

The first thing he was aware of, at the end of the 4:30 minutes that would forever remain the ideal length for a program, was the deafening roar of the crowd, like a tidal wave that would not be denied.  
Javier closed his eyes tightly. He had done perfectly.  
It was all in the hands of the judges now, but he knew – even if he didn’t win, this was a performance for the ages, his personal best was history, and now a new history would be made for him.  
Stumbling into the kiss and cry in a haze, he was met with Brian and Tracy’s screams of joy. They hugged him and cried, and Javier laughed, exhilarated and relieved that it was over, that he had done his best and it was out of his hands now.  
Javier was still dazed when the tiny number 1 appeared next to his name. He had overtaken Yuzuru. The impossible dream was now reality. He finally broke down into tears, incredulous and shaken, his heart full, fit to burst.  
There was still Shoma to skate, but Javier somehow knew that today no one would be able to surpass him - the stars had aligned for Javier this time, and the stars could only align for a single man at one given moment – from his experience lady luck didn’t do threesomes.  
Javier went backstage still high on endorphins, the screams of the crowd still echoing into his ears. His overwrought muscles were beginning to throb with a dull pain, that would probably flare up later, but now it was just a pleasant buzz, amid all the other sensations. He laughed in exhilaration, feeling like a gladiator returning from battle.  
Nathan shook his hand warmly in congratulations, then took his leave. Boyang rose immediately for another handshake, and Yuzuru, bowing to him repeatedly, and trying valiantly to smile, followed suit.  
Javier would have none of that handshake nonsense with Yuzuru, and pulled him immediately into a tight, demanding hug. He pressed that thin, sinewy body, all tight muscle and burning flame, impossibly tight to his own for a few moments, letting Yuzuru feel just how excited Javier was.  
“You skated like a champion”, Javier whispered into his ear, too low for any cameras to pick up, and Yuzuru shivered. “But I was even better today. I jumped the 4Lo thinking of all the times you did. You taught me that jump, Yuzu, just like I taught you 4S. I couldn’t have done it without you. Please try to be happy for me, like I would be for you.”  
There was more that Javier wanted to say and do – and if cameras weren’t on them, he might just taken courage to do them.  
But instead, Javier let go of Yuzuru with one last lingering squeeze, and a meaningful look, and then stepped back. Yuzuru lowered his eyes, and bowed again, deeply. Javier bowed as well, in acknowledgement, and they each took their seat, turning the attention to the screen, where Shoma was just getting up from a fall.  
It soon became apparent that Shoma would take bronze, and after the final rankings were announced, there was a flurry of congratulations and comings and goings.  
Even though Yuzuru tried to hold on to a vacant smile, he still looked somewhat shaken and remote, like there was a fundamental flaw in the laws of the universe that had only just become apparent to him.

The podium on which they stood was the last hurrah of their storied rivalry, an epic chase culminating in that one moment, the spark they lit years ago burning brightly one last time before going out.  
Yuzuru and Javier had written their names in history in big golden letters, and while others would follow suit, theirs was the flame that would light the way.  
“This is our moment, Yuzu”, Javier whispered to him, as they were posing.  
“It’s your moment, Javi”, Yuzuru countered. “Congratulations. I am happy for you.”  
Javier looked at him out of the corner of his eye. As expected, Yuzuru was smiling his fake media smile.  
Javier sighed, his heart clenched a little in his chest, despite his entire being singing with happiness and pride. Could they ever be truly happy at the same time, or was one of them always doomed to watch the other put on a fake smile amid a storm of emotions in his own heart? Maybe not, maybe this was how it was always supposed to be with them.  
“I’m retiring, Javi”, Yuzuru whispered to him, clutching at his shirt with demanding little fingers, as they were still posing. “I wanted to tell you first.” His smile didn’t falter, but Javier’s did, turning to stare at Yuzuru, stunned, even as the cameras were clicking away, blithely unaware that the world was ending.

 

The things was this.

  
There was something that no one knew about Javier, a dirty little secret that he was loath to admit even to himself, but one that made him so entirely human.  
No, it wasn’t the fact that he lusted after his rinkmate, as half the world seemed to have already decided on. He did in fact, as a hotblooded male who had never been adverse to a little experimenting, and, aware of his own charm, had happily engaged with both men and women he had found attractive. It was long ago that Javier first started watching Yuzuru with admiring eyes, wondering how the barely glimpsed soft unblemished skin would feel underneath his fingers, if Yuzuru is as passionate in bed as he allows himself to be on ice. And it was long ago that Yuzuru and Javier had succumbed to their mutual attraction, and had been sharing a strange and complicated romantic relationship, in addition to their friendship and rivalry. But even though Yuzuru was adamant that no rumour of their relationship could ever get out, Javier didn’t particularly care if it did.

  
That wasn’t his greatest secret.

  
In a deep, dark and pitiful corner within himself, Javier almost hated Yuzuru sometimes for being too good, and not even his own two gold medals at worlds could make up for it.  
His true shameful secret is looking at Yuzuru with the eye of a true connoisseur and realizing in painful detail how overall encompassingly better Yuzuru is. He’s sure many of his legions of fans don’t get it, which is funny. Yuzuru is so loved, so admired, but Javier sometimes feels like the only one in the world who knows exactly how good Yuzuru really is, how masterful. It eats at Javier in painful ways, and there are moments when he gets so depressed about the futility of even trying to beat him, that he can’t even bear to look at Yuzuru. How can one wrestle with windmills? How can one risk it all for the sake of an impossible dream?  
There were moments when Javier snapped and he never told anyone why. Brian had assumed (somewhat correctly) that the pressure of the looming Olympics was taking its toll, and separated the two rivals, training them separately. Javier had felt immensely relieved, even as Yuzuru had suffered. Javier knew Yuzuru needed him, needed Javier’s eyes on him during practice as a motivation, and Javier’s grounding presence as a calming influence. There was some satisfaction in denying Yuzuru  (why should Yuzuru always be the only one to deny Javier?) But then Yuzuru was injured and it was Javier’s turn to feel regret. Their physical relationship had suffered too – they hadn’t been intimate in months, and treated each other with careful deference.

  
The Ferris wheel kept on turning, and one of them was always high while the other one was low.

  
They shared everything else – everything, except these moments of elation that came with victory over their rival.  
And the wheel kept on turning – except now Yuzuru had decided to stop it and get off.  
Even in Javier’s darkest moments, this – Yuzuru retiring - was never what he wanted. In fact, he had never even considered that possibility and was amazed at how much Yuzuru’s decision hurt him.  
And Javier had no doubt that this was precisely what Yuzuru intended – this had nothing to do with skating, he was pushing Javier away, his retirement decision was nothing but a means to hurt Javier – the contrary cry of a spoiled child who for once didn’t get what he wanted. Javier doubted that their relationship – already precariously balanced, always on the verge of shattering to dust, would survive long-distance.  
It felt like the universe had decided to reward Javier somehow for all the times he had suffered because of Yuzuru – except Javier had never realized before how the cause of his suffering was also a great source of strength, without which he would feel bereft.

  
But of course, Javier would never tell Yuzuru this. He was too proud.

 

  
-  
Javier padded over to the hotel room door, to answer the tentative knock, still rubbing at his eyes, sleepily.  
“Yes?” he mumbled, opening the door.  
It was Yuzuru.  
Somewhat nervous, Javier stood aside, wordlessly, to allow him in.  
“Hi”, Yuzuru said, also a little awkwardly. “I.... I just...wanted to see it for a little bit.”  
Javier frowned in confusion, until he realized that Yuzuru meant the gold medal.  
“Of course....”  
He turned and rummaged through his bag, throwing some random clothes and items on the bed, in his attempt to locate it. Yuzuru’s eyes widened as he watched, a little taken aback perhaps, that Javier would treat it so carelessly. But for Javier the medal was just a thing, it was the symbol of it that was warm and bright, like the happiness it would bring to himself and his family.  
Having found the medal, Javier handed it over to Yuzuru. He wanted to place it around Yuzuru’s neck, in a reminder of last year’s world’s championships, when their roles were reversed. Yuzuru didn’t allow it, choosing instead to trace his fingers over it tentatively, like examining a sacred relic. It tugged at Javier’s heartstrings, who unthinkingly reacted by reaching out to touch Yuzuru’s hair, caressing it in sympathetic longing, with the same reverent warmth that Yuzuru lavished on the medal.  
“Yuzu, I—“  
What could he possibly say?  
‘I’m sorry’ ?  
Unthinkable. Because he wasn’t, and could never be sorry.  
‘I wish we could share the gold’ ?  
Childish, even if true. There was only space in Olympus for one throne and one king.  
Yuzuru seemed to understand Javier’s dilemma because he lifted his eyes and smiled softly, eyes crinkling.  
“It’s fine. You deserved it, Javi.”  
Javier nodded in gracious acceptance.  
“Are you alright?” he asked.  
Yuzuru’s eyes hardened, then he shrugged.  
“Not really. But I am retiring so it doesn’t matter.”  
There it was again, that sharp pain in Javier’s chest that really had no business being there when there was an Olympic gold medal to cover it.  
“Yuzu, is this really your decision? Is this something you want to do? Maybe you feel like you wanna take a break now, but you’ll be back. If I know you, you’ll be back. You can’t stay away, Yuzu...,” Javier realized he sounded like an idiot, but those words poured out of him unbidden.  
“My retirement decision is final, Javi,” Yuzuru said, fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie nervously.  
“Maybe I can change your mind?”  
“You can’t”, Yuzuru replied, a little too vehemently.  
“Okay”, Javier said, not wanting to antagonize him. “Well, if that’s true, then I want to leave you with one more lasting memory – of me.”  
Truly the Olympic gold that Javier was still wearing, pressed close to his skin, made him bold and reckless, because he’d never think about doing this otherwise. He took a step forward, trapped Yuzuru’s little face between his palms and kissed him hungrily, as if he had any right to, as if this was still in the cards. So far all their physical trysts had been discussed and mutually agreed on, decided in advance, even negotiated, never acted on impulsively – it was one of the reasons why they could keep their relationship secret for so long. Yet Javier unthinkingly decided in that moment to cross that invisible line, goaded by Yuzuru’s unexpected retirement decision, his own mixed feelings, and the residues of reckless triumph materialized in the gold medal around his neck.  
Javier had almost forgotten the feeling – the sensation, of Yuzuru’s lips against his own, their soft plumpness and unique flavour, sweet and spicy, familiar yet exciting, begging to be conquered while biding their time to devour Javier’s own.  
The next thing Javier knew, after a few seconds of sensual bliss, was that his hands were empty of Yuzu and his face was stinging sharply.  
Yuzuru had slapped him.  
Chastised, Javier pulled back, rubbing at his cheek, a slight smile on his lips. Given Yuzuru’s reaction, an apology might be in order, and he was about to give it, but was stopped dead at the look on Yuzuru’s face.  
He looked angry.  
“How dare you? How dare you....now....?” Yuzuru was almost out of breath in his outrage.  
Fair point. Javier wondered at that himself.  
“Now I feel like I earned the right”, Javier finally answered, and took a step forward, boldly. “It’s a day for firsts, is it not? Today I seem to get everything I want.”  
Yuzuru stared him down darkly, and Javier expected another slap, but then suddenly Yuzuru was all over him – knocking him over, pressing against him, trembling with need and desire, as they both tried to divest each other of clothing as fast as possible, almost violent and clumsy in their eagerness.  
And then finally they were both naked, with the gold medal pressed cold and hard between their overheated bodies.  
For all their excitement, it was all over much too soon, both too aroused to make it last.  
Yuzuru groaned a halting Y-yes, throwing his head back, as he bounced on Javier’s lap, his face twisted in the throes of pleasure.  
He took Javier’s hands and placed them on his hips, guiding his own movements. Javier’s hands slid further down to cup the small but shapely buttocks, squeezing them with a groan. Yuzuru answered with a cry and picked up the pace, slamming himself down on Javier’s cock with almost angry purpose. His hand strayed towards the medal on Javier’s chest and touched it possessively – he grabbed the cord in his fingers tightly as if he wanted to choke Javier with it. Half genuinely worried that Yuzuru might actually go through with it, and half crazed with the desire to come, Javier flipped them over abruptly, changing their positions. Now he was staring at Yuzuru from above, his medal dangling from his neck and brushing against Yuzuru’s chest. Yuzuru reached out for it again, but Javier took Yuzuru’s wrists in a strong hold, pressing them against the couch, and changed position slightly, as he resumed his thrusting with more vigour. Only a few sharp, stuttering thrusts later, Javier groaned brokenly and reached his climax. He only had the foresight to pull out at the very last second, as he finished, painting Yuzuru’s thighs in layers of come.  
“Fuck”, Javier gasped, momentarily shaken by the force of his orgasm. “Oh God.”  
He panted for a while, eyes tightly closed, as he came down from his high, then wanted to reach out and help Yuzuru to finish, when he realized that Yuzuru had reached his climax as well. So instead, Javier bent down and kissed Yuzuru, trying to put all his unsaid feelings into those lingering kisses, pressing in and and then pulling back slightly to look into Yuzuru’s eyes, as if willing him to understand his hidden pleas.  
_'I’m sorry you’re hurting.' -_  
_'Please don’t leave me.' -_  
_'Tell me how you feel.'–_  
_'Don’t shut me out.'-_

Yuzuru shifted.  
“I have to go.”  
“Stay, please.”  
“I didn’t come here for this. I just came to-“  
“To see it. Yes, yes I know.” Javier flicked at the gold medal still around his neck, with a measure of bitterness, then fell back on the bed with a sigh.  
“- to congratulate you”, Yuzuru finished. “I am happy for you.”  
Javier laughed and looked at him incredulously.  
“Yeah, right. You don’t look happy. You look crushed. I know you, remember? I know every bit of you down to the last detail, because there was a time when you let me....“, he trailed off, because it was too painful for him to continue.  
Yuzuru didn’t answer. He stood up and limped a little towards the bathroom.  
“I have to take a shower. Can I....?”  
“Be my guest.”  
While Yuzuru was in the bathroom, Javier called room service and ordered strawberry cake – with extra strawberry. It was very silly of him, but he wanted to chase away Yuzuru’s gloom if only for one second of unguarded happy surprise, and he could think of no other way to do it in that moment.  
When Yuzuru came out, naked and nonchalant about it, preoccupied by some thoughts that were twisting his features in a frown, Javier was sitting at a small table, the strawberry cakes lined up in front of him, together with two cups – one with foamy cappuccino and one with green tea.  
“Javi...,” Yuzuru sighed, his face relaxing in a smile. Javier smiled back, hopefully.  
“Please join me. I hope you enjoy.”  
“Javi, you’re sweet, you’re too sweet, but-”  
“Not sweeter than this cake, I bet! Mmmm” – Javier took a bite and made an exaggerated noise of satisfaction. “This is fantastic, go on, try it.”  
“Okay, I will”, Yuzuru relented. “Thank you very much, Javi. But you didn’t have to do this, really.”  
Javier took a deep breath, seeing his chance.  
“There’s so much more I want to do for you... so much, if only – Yuzu, I care about you a lot, and I want-“  
Yuzuru interrupted him:  
“You only feel like you love me more because you’re about to lose me.... It will pass, Javi. Nothing has ever been simple between us. I don’t think we’ve ever been truly happy together.”  
“That’s not fair, Yuzu.... Why must you hurt me like this? It’s not fair, we were happy. Remember podium tickles? Remember playing with Effie? Pretending we were hockey players just to mess with Brian? Remember that day we spent in the park, and you told me about your swan program before you told anyone else, and you looked so excited? I was so happy and proud of you, Yuzu, I still am-”  
“Javi- stop”, Yuzuru protested, biting at his lower lip hard enough to crack it, tears blooming in his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned away, searching for his clothes and beginning to dress slowly.  
“I don’t deserve”, he mumbled. “There’s no point...”  
"Don't be silly, Yuzu", Javier chastised him, a stern note creeping into his voice unbidden.

Yuzuru turned abruptly.  
“How would you feel if I told you that I’m not really happy for you, Javi, that I can’t be? I’m an awful person. All I can think about is that I disappointed everyone – my fans, my family, all the people who worked so hard to help me to be here.... I failed. I bet my life on this gold medal, but you're the one who's wearing it right now, and it’s too much, I can’t bear it-“  
“So you’re running away, then?” Javier interrupted, incensed. “Is this how you deal with what happened? By deciding to retire?”  
“How I deal is not your concern, Javi”, Yuzuru replied, with a distant look in his eyes which hurt Javier more than anything.  
“Oh, but it is. Because you’re leaving me. This is how you punish me for winning over you? I didn’t know you could be that petty,” Javier threw at him, relishing it when Yuzuru flinched at the weight of that accusation.  
“Yes”, he nodded, listlessly, then stepped quietly towards the door.  
“You didn’t even touch your cake!” Javier called after him, his annoyance only rising at Yuzuru’s refusal to engage in the argument. “All the things I do for you – they’re just.... wasted. You don’t care and you never give anything back. And when you decided it’s enough, you just leave. Do you ever stop to think about how I feel?”  
Yuzuru paused in front of the door.  
“I’m so sorry, Javi”, he said, voice strange. You’re right. I can’t change, but I can make things right. Goodbye, Javi, thank you for everything.”  
At any other time, Javier would’ve been worried by these words, spoken in such a defeated tone of voice, but in that moment, he only felt annoyed.  
Yuzuru stepped silently through the door and out of Javier’s life.

 

Javier resolved to have nothing to do with Yuzuru Hanyu, ever again.

 

This was easy to do because Javier was busy, his success at the Olympics meant that he was a star in his country now. He decided to take full advantage of the momentum and try to make yet another impossible dream reality – that of opening a skating school in his own country.

For once, Javier found that he wasn’t lacking funding, and plenty of people wanted to be involved in the project, including some people who were famous in the field. At the opening, Javier organized a big show to celebrate and for the first time considered asking Yuzuru to participate.  
It had been more than a year since Pyeongchang, where Yuzuru had announced his retirement, and since then, he had entirely disappeared from the public eye, to the dismay of his fans. There were rumors that he was focusing entirely on his studies, and he planned to forsake skating altogether.

  
One evening, returning from an evening out with his friends, pleasantly tipsy, Javier stopped at a street corner, pulled out his phone and clicked on Yuzuru’s contact details, requesting a video call. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, he had no idea if Yuzuru still had that number and was half sure that even if he did, he wouldn’t answer anyway. As the seconds ticked by and the call wasn’t accepted, Javier also had time to wonder at the time difference between Spain and wherever Yuzuru was at this point. With a sigh, he almost ended the call, when unbelievably, the call connected.  
“Hi, Javi”, he heard Yuzuru’s low, scratchy voice, almost a whisper.  
Javier peered curiously at the screen.  
Yuzuru appeared to be lying down in bed on his side, holding the phone half upright. He was blinking owlishly at the screen, half covered in blankets. Javier could see he was wearing comfy-looking pijamas, something for which Javier (who only ever bothered with a t-shirt and boxers) had always teased him about.  
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Javier spoke, quickly. “I don’t even have an idea what time it is where you are-“  
Yuzuru offered an amused smile:  
“It’s past two o’clock at night, Javi.”  
“Oh – gosh, I’m sorry. I really don’t know why I did this. I’m going to hang up and let you sleep, Yuzuru.”  
“Javi.... this is first time you call in a year. I am happy to hear your voice.”  
Javier clutched the phone closer to him, as a passing car almost drowned out what Yuzuru was quietly saying. He cursed his impulsive self for not doing this in broad daylight, in the comfort of his home.  
“I am happy to hear you too”, he breathed. “Barely”, he added with an eye-roll at himself, “but yeah. Happy. To – finally, talk to you. Everyone is wondering about – I mean, I was thinking – I – I'd like to -“  
“Javi?” Yuzuru asked. “Are you okay?”  
“God, yeah, god yes, I’m fine. I guess... uh.” Javier looked around, blinking. Tears had come to his eyes unexpectedly, and he had to look away from the screen. He stepped a little further away from the streetlight, leaning against a wall, and closed his eyes. Somehow that question, straightforward and innocuous, made him realize that maybe he wasn’t in fact, as okay as everyone seemed to take for granted that he was, that he _had to be_. Having won the Olympics. Having become a popular and beloved public figure. Having achieved his dream of opening a skating school, and the respect and pride that came with all his achievements. Javier felt even worse for knowing he should feel happy and accomplished, yet he didn’t – like that in itself was a personal failing.  
“Javi?” Yuzuru insisted. “What is it?”  
“I ... I just miss you. I’m sorry. It’s stupid. I miss you.”  
There was more that Javier could say, but he decided to save the last shred of his pride and abstain for now.  
There was a pause.  
“It’s not stupid”, Yuzuru finally said. “I miss you too.”  
“I wanted to ask you if maybe you would like to skate in my show. I’m opening my skating school, I don’t know if you’ve heard-“  
“I did.”  
“...and there will be an ice show to celebrate it. But I know you haven’t been skating in a while, and maybe you’ve moved on, and I don’t want to impose so...”  
“...I promise you I’ll think about it, Javi”, Yuzuru said, seriously. “I can’t say anything right now, but I promise I’ll consider it, and I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”  
Javier nodded quickly, rubbing at his eyes, with some embarrassment.  
“Please, don’t cry, Javi.... it’s making me so sad to see you cry.”  
Javier coughed a little, and offered a small forced smile.  
“I’m sorry-“  
“Don’t say sorry, it’s okay. I’m happy you called me.”  
“Even if I woke you up?”  
“Even so”, Yuzuru smiled, eyes crinkling, and Javier couldn’t stop himself from breaking into an answering smile.  
“Well....I’d better let you sleep now, Yuzu”, Javier mumbled awkwardly, gazing at Yuzuru’s smiling features. He was sure that the affection in his heart could be easily read in his gaze, but for once he wasn’t ashamed to show it.  
“Good night, Javi”, Yuzuru answered, eyes soft with a similar glow. He pressed his finger to the screen, ending the call.  
“Good night...”

Javier slept late the next day, and when he picked up his phone, a single message was waiting for him, from Yuzuru:

  
_“Yes.”_

  
Javier grinned with newfound happiness, as if the world around him got a little brighter. He bent over and gave Effie a kiss as she slept on, curled nearby on the covers, and skipped out of bed, singing under his breath.  
On his way to the shower, he turned on the tv, and a voice began to ramble: “and now to the weather – after a long winter, we are getting the first signs of spring in the coming week – expect the temperatures to rise slowly but steadily-“  
Javier wasn’t a fool. He knew that the simple passage of time, and their missing each other did not solve every issue between them. Him and Yuzuru wouldn’t just fall into each other’s arms when they saw each other and live happily ever after and it would all magically work out between them.  
But a year had passed and maybe some wounds had time to crust over, if not heal altogether, and maybe they were both a little wiser, if also a little sadder. Maybe they could look at each other with new eyes, while still holding on to the good memories. Maybe they could still hope.

  
Because spring was coming.


End file.
